


Obsession

by forsakenoathkeeper



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsakenoathkeeper/pseuds/forsakenoathkeeper
Summary: He wouldn't settle for the pathetic ways of human. He needed you in all possible ways, body, soul, and blood.* Please be wary of adult content, including explicit sexual content, acts of violence, description of gore and blood, use of foul language, descriptions of abuse, trauma, dark romance, shaming, potential non-con, and other sensitive materials! *





	Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> This is Sora-chan from tumblr! I decided to place my fanfictions on AO3, as well, because of Tumblr's recent decision to no longer be a sex positive platform. You can also find me on twitter. Thank you for reading my erotica. Please be wary that I do write as close to the original nature of Diabolik Lovers as I possibly can. As such, these erotica pieces are often dark, obscene, and explicit. I hope you enjoy.

“I don’t believe in human ways…” a familiar voice quietly whispered from across the room, a harsh sound that made you tremble. His voice didn’t just hit your ears, it echoed all around you, pulsating around the room as though to taunt you. You were sprawled out on the cold, wood floor, legs stretched out awkwardly and leaning up as you balancing on your forearms. Trembling slightly, you lifted onto your hands, though you remained awkwardly leaning back, knowing better than to attempt to stand after being gracelessly shoved onto the floor.

Ah, but, was it really that terrible? You were quite familiar with this: a rough caress and a halfhearted shove that would send you to the floor. It was almost symbolic.

The vampire’s bedroom was pitch black, something you were rather accustomed to. It was not a darkness that could be faintly seen through with the flutter of eyelids. It was the type of darkness only a vampire’s presence could produce: the type of darkness that seeped, crawled, and smothered you whole, as though the darkness could reach out and strangle you.

For a moment, you remained still on the floor, unable to see a single thing, until the clouds shifted away just enough to allow some moonlight to shimmer through the bedroom window. The light casted a box-shaped glow onto the floor, which you laid in, like a model on display. Hair was strewn about your face in a mess, nearly shielding your eyes. A simple gesture, a shake of the head, and you managed to toss most of your hair out of the way.

“Listen-” you began, voice a quiet whisper as it attempted to reach out to him. He didn’t give you a chance for more words. “Words… promises… vows… They don’t mean a damn thing!” the pureblood snarled, his voice lowering in tone, though rising in volume. You didn’t flinch from that voice, accustomed to that vampiric snarl. Rather, your eyelids fluttered and you stared through the darkness to the spot you assumed he was standing.

You couldn’t see Ayato through the darkness, but you could feel him. His presence was as powerful as the mere sight of him. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see him. Even if he chose to be silent, you would still be able to feel his presence, feel his stare as those big green orbs sliced through the darkness, soaking in your shameful appearance - the shameful sight of you sprawled out on his bedroom floor.

You could feel his emotions, barely even contained as he simply stood there in the dark, fuming with anger and pent up frustration. But, there was more, wasn’t there? Whether you were aware of it or not, you could feel it. Something else was rattling his chains – the chains that bound him to your mortal soul.

You likely knew better by now, knowing that not a single word of reassurance could calm the beast that dwelled beneath the surface – beneath crimson hair, round cheeks, and a captivating smile. Expressing your love, announcing his ownership of you, and confessing to the sin that plagued your heart – such things he loved to hear pouring from your mouth, though they couldn’t keep him stable. He didn’t want to hear those words. He wanted to feel them, as though they were as alive as your fluttering heartbeat.

“Humans waste their breath – you waste your breath… Don’t say another word… until I’m done with you… My name… that’s all you can say,” the vampire panted, speaking frantically, with uneven breaths and a harsh tone. His words made you tremble, though fear wasn’t as present as you might have anticipated. You knew from experience what was going to happen – the promise in that tone, in those words, in those demands. What he wanted – what he needed.

You couldn’t resist letting a fluttering sound escape, in a breathless exhale. “Ayato, pl-” His name was echoed around the room and your second sound was swallowed in the darkness. The clouds shifted in front of the crescent-shaped moon, removing the tidbit of light that was casted upon you. Ayato took this chance to move, joining your body on the floor as he smothered your smaller frame beneath his larger one. His lips silenced yours, in a kiss that was likely to leave a faint redness and make the sensitive skin swell. His kiss was so harsh that you could feel his fangs clashing with your own, more-fragile teeth.

The clouds gathered and kept the moon well hidden, ensuring that Ayato’s bedroom was completely dark once more. His vampiric nature allowed him to see perfectly well through the dark; but, a weak human like you couldn’t possibly do that. All you could really do was feel his body, pressing down and pinning you to the floor. If such a thing was possible, his skin was colder than the floor boards, making you tremble and whimper. His body, even before skin met, was already aching to steal your warmth. The clothes… the annoying, damn, worthless clothes!

His lips eventually tore away from yours and he leaned up, creating enough space to reach for you. Instinctively, you leaned up, reaching for him senselessly, like a trembling animal too blind to think straight. Cold fingers curled around your throat, though he didn’t squeeze. His massive hand effortlessly contained the entirety of your neck, allowing his thumb the freedom to slide along your fragile jawbone. You recognized that touch: a touch of absolute temptation – the fact that he possessed the ability to kill you with no effort required.

Ayato had desired it many times – to pluck away your worthless mortal life and silence the war going on in his heart. Yet, that simple word, ‘worthless’, no longer applied, did it? He had become so dependent upon your mortal life. He had become, by his own definition, weak – for he knew, deep down, that his life was now tied to yours. The heart that thumped in your chest gave his immortal life value, more value than he could possess alone. Such a thing… he would never dare admit. The truth was clear, no matter how much it annoyed him: he needed you.

“Would you beg for your life if I threatened it?” Ayato whispered, tentatively tightening his fingers until you gasped, only to immediately loosen. Your gasping caused your adam’s apple to bob against his palm and his digits could feel the thumping of your pulse, veins rapidly throbbing against that thin layer of skin that kept your blood from him.

“No… Not if it’s what you really want…” you replied, surprising yourself with your lack of hesitance – with the lack of fear of what he expressed the desire to do. What came from Ayato’s lips did, however, surprise you. It was not what he said, but how he said it. The relaxed, almost pleasant way that he whispered, “where’s the fun in that?” before releasing your throat. You could feel it, the serenity in his tone, even if it contrasted with his body language.

Before you could dare relax, Ayato descended, parting his lips to bare his fangs, before burying them in the delicate flesh of your neck. Instinctively, your hands lifted and clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his uniform jacket. The red head’s fangs held you perfectly still, ensuring you could hardly move beneath his grasp. The strength of his top fangs, and even the extra grip of his bottom row, was as painful as it was delightful. The familiar sting and feeling of your blood being drained, by the vampire you had given yourself to, was unlike any other sensation.

His arms slid beneath your body, lifting you slightly off the cold, bedroom floor. Your trembling legs tangled with his, though Ayato further took advantage of this, using his strength to lock your limbs down: another gesture that felt oh-so familiar, as much as it was unnecessary, for you hardly resisted. No… You wanted more… You couldn’t live with just this… It wasn’t enough.

The sounds of Ayato greedily gulping down your blood made it impossible to think straight. The sound echoed in your ears, drowning out any other noise, if such things existed. His painful grip, his squeezing hands – Ayato’s touch spoke to you, silently expressing his neediness. When your hands slid along his clothed back, you could feel the tension in his muscles, the movement of the strong ligaments beneath his skin. Steadily, he pulled back, retracting his fangs from your flesh.

“Gnn…” he growled lowly, throat and mouth vibrating against your own flesh. You failed to withhold a violent tremble, brought about by his demonic sound. He released a breathless sigh, almost like a very brief chuckle, though it was shortly lived before he began to pant into your fresh wound. “It’s never enough… Even if I consumed it endlessly, until I was sick and your body was empty… I would still want more…”

The vampire leaned up slightly, hovering above you to allow his hands room to wander. His fingers roughly slid along your chest, directly beneath your neck, before grabbing fistfuls of your blouse and harshly tugging. A loud noise resonated in your ears as the cotton tore, exposing your flesh to his hungry eyes. “Ayato, that’s not nec-” your proclamation went silence when Ayato’s dominant hand slid upward, cupping the underside of your clothed breast before roughly sliding past the mound to touch the exposed skin of your chest, neck, and shoulders. The rough pads of his fingers and his sharp nails gently dug into your flesh, the rough touch making you gasp.

“Had I waited too long? Heh. Your body is begging for it. Look at you… your skin… dying for my fangs…” he breathlessly panted, his head lowering. Strands of soft, red locks fell forward and tickled your flesh as Ayato’s breath, warmed by your blood, danced along the newly exposed skin. Was your body really that needy? Your senses were on overdrive, too heavily focused on his every little gesture to think properly. Sense and reason had been long forgotten, drowned by the emotions that wracked you to the core: emotions brought about by none other than the pureblood above you.

Ayato’s lips roughly met your skin, nipping and sucking at the thin flesh that covered your chest. He didn’t waste much time trailing downward. His fangs grabbed at the hem of your bra, tearing a little into your skin as he harshly tugged, ripping the weak fabric with his teeth. Doing so slightly tugged your body off the floor. You arched and forgot to come back down.

“Stay like that,” Ayato immediately barked. His tongue flicked out to lap at the tiny pool of blood that had surfaced from his accident scratch. “Makes you look less flat chested,” he added quickly, trying to mask the raw desire in his voice. His non-dominant hand curled beneath your arched back, ensuring that you remained as you were, elevated slightly and arched into his mouth. His free hand continued to rip unceremoniously at your clothes, not entirely concerned what fell off and what remained, so long as your most sacred places became exposed.

“Aya-… ah… too rough,” you whimpered as he sucked one of your buds into his mouth. He was merciless, sucking harshly on the sensitive flesh and letting his fangs tease the skin. The rough sensation made your hips unconsciously buck, lifting and rocking aimlessly. Your legs trembled on the outside of his body, knees smacking against Ayato’s ribs.

He released the bud with a noisy sound before shifting his lips elsewhere, immediately finding a place along the swell of your breasts to bury his fangs. “Gnn…” growls rumbled into your flesh, sounds of utter satisfaction. Your head fell back, a whimper and a cry mingling into a bizarre noise that broke free from your mouth. It was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the pureblood’s fangs. His incisors were burning hot in your body, melting your flesh and forcing your blood to rise to the surface.

His dominant hand was everywhere, shoving clothing aside and squeezing, clawing, and touching every inch of you. You could feel his touch all along your chest, sliding over your abdomen, squeezing at your behind, and clawing over your back. His fingers hooked on the outer hem of your panties and, for a moment, he hesitated. The tips of his index and middle finger toyed with the delicate, cotton hem as he continued to drink.

Upon releasing your flesh, he harshly whispered, “tell me… Who possesses the ability to satisfy you?” For a moment, you couldn’t reply, panting in desperation and almost dizzy from everything he was doing to you. Your legs continued to tremble against his sides. Slight embarrassment reddened your cheeks when the sheer wetness between your thighs became unbearably obvious. Ayato shamelessly nudged himself closer, letting you feel the hardness of him, pressing painfully against his zipper.

He nudged himself impossibly close, grinding his pelvis against yours. “Answer me…” he whispered, his tone not as demanding as he would have liked. You whimpered upon feel him, painfully jabbing into your clothed core. You couldn’t see through the darkness, but you could feel Ayato’s green orbs staring down at you, burning holes into your skull. Finally, you whispered, a breathless sigh, “…Ayato…”

Steadily, Ayato set you down on the wood floor, his body shifting to hover above you, properly aligning your faces. His hands were steadied on either side of your head as he nudged between your parted legs, staring down at you with unblinking, big, green orbs. Through the darkness, he admired the disaster of your composure: skin glistening with sweat, bright red marks tainting your flesh, perky breasts exposed, clothing in complete disarray. Never in his life had he wanted to devour someone whole, like he had in that moment.

The temptation to tear the flesh off your bones and drown in your screams. Yet, as badly as he wanted to do that, he didn’t. He wanted to touch that soft skin with a gentle hand and feel you flinch beneath him. What kind of vampire longed for such things? He didn’t know how to answer.

As he stared, the clouds that had been darkening the mansion shifted aside. The moon, as small as it was, became exposed again, shining the faintest bit of light into the room. You blinked, staring up in awe at Ayato’s face, his expression so sincere, it almost hurt. Immediately, the pureblood leaned down and captured your mouth, his kiss so rough that it stopped you mid-breath.

Your hands pushed weakly against Ayato’s chest as he kissed you, silently urging him to slow down. Despite that tiny bit of struggle, you immediately began kissing him back, unable to resist that tantalizing taste. The rhythm of your mouths, while sloppy, was familiar and made your heart flutter. Time became lost in that kiss. For a moment, the world around you dissipated. Tongues danced and breathing became a second thought. He growled into your mouth and you replied with a nonsensical whimper. One of his hands tangled in your hair, fingers curled around your skull to keep you still as he devoured your mouth.

Then, suddenly, and rather harshly, he pulled away, separating from your lips with a loud, wet sound. You failed to contain an undignified yelp when the vampire flipped you over, not even sparing you a warning. You landed on your belly, arms awkwardly stretched out in front of you. Immediately, Ayato’s hands were tugging on your hips, pulling you onto your knees. His dominant hand slid over your rump, his thumb toying with the band of your underwear. His dwindling patience was only held at bay by the sight of you squirming on the floor, presented so indecently.

His hand maneuvered around and he let his middle digit trail along the center of your panties, feeling the wetness that had soaked the cotton. Your nails dug into the wood floor, forearms trembling as you longed for something to hold onto. Ayato ignored the throbbing in his pants, instead focusing on the trembling of your body. His imagination wandered freely, wondering what your insides were like. He had barely touched you, yet the mere scent of your arousal was already floating around the room, completely enrapturing his every thought.

“…do you long for me… and only me?” Ayato thought to himself, his finger continuing to tease you, not yet shredding away the pathetic fabric that kept your bare skin apart from his own. His lips parted, as though he desired to speak those words; yet, they never left his mouth. So long as he ensured it was true – so long as he demanded that this body think of no other… You would always be his.

“Aya - gh!” you shrieked, startled by the sudden sound of fabric tearing. Using one of his knees, Ayato nudged your legs further apart and you could feel the tattered fabric of your panties sliding down your thigh until it bunched up around your knee, on the floor. His longest digit trailed along the pink, soaked flesh. You gasped at the sudden touch and shrieked once more when his digit harshly entered your depths.

“Stop being so quiet,” he scolded you. “Louder! Don’t hold back… Heh. Or… are you telling me that I’m not being rough enough?” His digit curled, expertly finding that sweet spot deep inside you. Another sound broke free, a startled cry that evolved into a low moan that slowly drew from your mouth. Ayato twisted his finger around, enjoying the horribly lewd sounds of your wet flesh squeezing at his digit. Another finger accompanied, pressing and prodding against your walls, forcing more and more cries from your throat.

With your cheek smooshed against the wood, knees painfully digging into the floorboards, all you could do was whimper, cry, tremble, and shudder. It was impossible to do much else. Ayato’s green orbs were constantly moving back and forth between your shameful expression and the wonderful view: watching his fingers disappearing into your body, past the puckered lips of your womanhood.

Unconsciously, your legs further spread, silently inviting him to invade you more: deeper, harder, anything, just so long as you could feel more of him. One of your hands reached back, fingers curling around his leg to grab at his pants. He felt those tiny digits grabbing at him and it forced a bizarre growl from the pureblood’s throat. Your walls shuddered and he felt that he couldn’t take it anymore. Were you ready? You were going to be.

A whimper escaped you when Ayato harshly jerked his hand back, removing his soaked fingers from your depths. “Oi… lean up….” he harshly whispered, panting gently as he quickly worked to undo his belt and zipper. He freed himself with a quiet sigh, eyelids fluttered as he watched you lean up properly onto your hands. Ayato reached for you, sliding his hands along your navel before harshly tugging you upwards. You yelped as you suddenly became vertical, your back slamming into his chest.

Your thighs trembled when you felt something hard and hot prodding at your entrance. Ayato’s dominant hand slid downward, curling within the hem of your skirt to curl within your nether lips. The pad of his finger found your pearl and a simple flick made you cry out. His other hand groped your breast, squeezing at the supple flesh while simultaneously keeping you upward.

“Don’t just sit there like an idiot. Hold onto me,” he commanded. Before your hands could be settled on his forearm, or whatever else you could reach, his member was sliding past your entrance. “Ayato - …! Not so fast..!” you begged him, whimpering at the sudden intrusion. His fingers harshly pinched your pearl, making your words break off into cries.

“I’ll take you as fast I want,” he whispered, breath hot and harsh against your cheek. “Keep up with me.” Your head had fallen against his shoulder, your expression absolutely bewildered. Ayato’s hips slid upward, until he was buried to the hilt. You could feel his length forcing your walls to stretch, the tip prodding at places impossibly deep. “Ah!” you moaned, briefly chewing on your bottom lip before letting your mouth fall open into a silent scream.

With his nose, Ayato pushed messy strands of sweaty hair off your neck. His tongue flicked out, trailing along the thin flesh that kept him from your blood. His hips moved at a steady pace, creating an echo of fleshy sounds that accompanied your various cries and moans. His lips parted and his fangs extended, about to taste that delicious neck once more.

The vampire’s fangs parted your flesh, slicing into the delicate skin that rested between your neck and shoulder. Ayato sucked harshly on the tantalizing vein that thumped so lively there. Your entire body shuddered: from your shoulders, down your spine, along your back side, through your core, and down your trembling legs. Ayato’s hands ensured you remained upright, pressed against him and perfectly spread for him to invade.

It was all too much: his member claiming your depths, his fangs buried in your flesh, while his tongue lapped up the blood that poured from the gushing wound. Too much, too soon… Yet, you found yourself coming undone. Your walls clenched tightly around him, juices gushing and pouring down your thighs. Feeling the waves of your orgasm, Ayato growled into your neck, squeezing you even closer so he could feel your pleasure. His name fell upon your trembling lips, again and again, before you slowly came down from your high.

“So soon? Hah… and already beggin’ for more…” Ayato mumbled into your shoulder, careless to the blood that smeared from his lips across your skin. His arms lowered you back to the floor; however, with a quick shift, forcing your leg up and around, he had you flipped onto your back, all while ensuring you remained as one. Bewildered, delirious, and practically drunk with pleasure, you were helpless to do much more than whimper when his body lowered, becoming parallel with you once more.

Ayato growled against your temple as he started to move again. He could feel your nether lips fluttering, tender from the rushed orgasm he had just given you. Ah, but you were accustomed to that, weren’t you? It wasn’t enough to just pleasure you. He wanted the evidence of the event present on you for days to come. He wanted your body to be aching from his tough, to still feel him as though he was still throbbing inside you. He wanted your body to be helpless, aching and trembling without his cold touch to calm it.

As the vampire slid forward, placing his arms on either side of your head, your legs unconsciously lifted and slid around his hips. He paused for just a moment, staring down at your helpless expression. Suddenly, as though annoyed, Ayato’s dominant hand shifted, his fingers roughly curling around your jaw to hold your face, ensuring you remained staring up at him.

“Ayato, what’s… what are you…” you whispered, too tired and delirious to properly ask him what it was that raced through his mind. Yet, even in your drunken state, it seemed clear what it was. His eyes, just barely visible through the dim light, were as demanding as ever. He began to move again, swiftly and roughly rolling his hips against yours. The sound of wet flesh pounding together echoed in your ears, accompanied with Ayato’s breathless grunts and your screaming.

“Slow down…!” you begged him, eyes squeezing shut. “Too much… It’s too-… AH!” Was it too much? Too much… but not enough. Too rough, too fast… and yet… your legs were squeezing at his hips, silently demanding he not dare stop. With every roll of his hips, he felt so much deeper. His chest was pressing down on yours, the feeling of his weight comforting. “Look at me,” he demanded, fingers still clenching at your jaw. Your tired eyes peeled open, looking up at his wild, lustful expression.

“Stop complaining,” he snarled, his scolding enough to make you whimper. “Your purpose in life is to belong to me, and no one else…!” His tone, while rough and demanding, was spoken in some bizarre, gentle way, that made your heart thump uneasily. “Gnn… Hold me tighter and scream louder… Ahh…. My name… so loud… that it hurts my ears… Don’t - gnnn… make a fuss over nothing, just-… succumb to me…”

Succumb to me… and that was the last thing you remembered him saying that night: a demand that he had made many times before, whispered to you in such a way… Like a pleading confession… Had he anticipated that it would strike fear into your heart? When all it really did was make your heart throb… Your arms squeezed him close and your lips sung his name. “I love you, Ayato… always….”


End file.
